


When Peter Forgot What Day It Was

by goldenambedo



Series: Peter Parker's Road to Recovery [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Field Trip, Flash Thompson Redemption, Hurt Peter Parker, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Permanent Injury, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, Peter did the snap, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, tony's alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenambedo/pseuds/goldenambedo
Summary: When Ned told Peter about the Stark Industries field trip he was missing out on whilst in recovery, Peter thought he wouldn't have to worry about it. He assumed he'd be asleep for it, as he was most of the time nowadays, and had forgotten about it quickly. He had more important things to worry about, like his damaged arm, his charred face, and everything else that'd happened in consequence of him snapping Thanos out of existence.But then he went to the cafeteria with Mr Stark, and saw some unexpected familiar faces.AKA Peter did the snap and is in recovery at SI, Midtown field trip trope sprinkled in, small identity reveal.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Peter Parker's Road to Recovery [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982696
Comments: 54
Kudos: 2695
Collections: Identity Reveal x Field Trip, Peter Parker’s Field Trips, Stories in which Peter Parker snaps in Endgame instead of Tony Stark., impravidus's favorite fics





	When Peter Forgot What Day It Was

**Author's Note:**

> hiii i have not written anything in AGES (over a year) and have never written anything MCU related before. so please be kind and gentle, i only wrote this for fun after i got this idea stuck in my head.
> 
> let me know if you like it, and sorry if the pacing or anything is off, i tried my best :)

Peter awoke with a jolt, his brain snapping him out of his nightmare before it could impact him too much. Blind panic and an intense need to survey his surroundings coursed through his veins, but his body was still fragile, so his eyes opened slowly, his body stayed still, and he couldn’t find the energy to sit up in his bed. Panicking like this was the worst. It was like all the manic energy was trapped within him, unable to show itself outwardly because he was too weak even for nervous habits like tapping his thigh, or biting his lip.

Things slowly came into focus as he tried desperately to keep ahold of fragments of his dream (/flashback), no matter how horrible it was. He had felt pain immeasurable to anything he’d ever felt before… There was fire, and injured superheroes everywhere… He was staring Thanos straight in the face, and then there was nothing. This wasn’t his first time waking up since those events, so he had already had the gaps in his memory filled in on what he’d done the day of the fight that Dr Strange had dubbed Endgame. He’d been the one to snap Thanos and his army away. Somehow, his body didn’t spontaneously combust from that, but he knew it came close. And that was why he was where he was today, weak, frail, half-paralysed and so… unlike the superhero he was supposed to be.

Finally his bleary eyes began to focus, and he dragged his line of sight down from the smooth white ceiling above him to scan the room. As he sometimes did, Tony Stark was sat in an armchair in the corner, Starkpad in hand and a contemplative frown on his face. He looked deep in thought, caught up in a workflow that would be usually hard to snap him out of. But that was when Peter’s body decided to let out the strained groan he’d wanted to when he originally woke up, and the rumbling of it hurt his throat. Tony’s eyes flickered up immediately, and he put the Starkpad down gently on the sleek dresser next to where he sat.

“Hey underoos.” He said casually before standing up and coming closer to sit by Peter on his bed. Weirdly, he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt instead of his usual casual ensemble of oil-stained jeans and a wife beater. “How you feeling this time, hm? That nap was shorter than usual.”

Peter wanted to snort at the remark, but there wasn’t enough energy in him to do so. His time spent awake was less than his time spent asleep at that point in his recovery process, but apparently even the few hours he managed to be awake and coherent for were a huge improvement from the coma he’d been in for weeks after the snap. Dr Strange and Dr Cho said something about his body doing things that bodies shouldn’t be able to do because of his metabolism, and that it was taking a huge amount of energy to do that.

“Earth to Spider-Kid.” Tony snapped Peter out of whatever was going on in his brain.

“Uhh…” Peter licked his dry lips, and decided to ignore tony’s question in favour of his own. “‘m okay. Wha… What day’s it?”

Even though his question got a laugh from Tony, Peter was serious. It was hard to keep track when you were asleep at least half of the time.

“It’s Wednesday. Ted keeps texting you, by the way.” Peter was about to ask how Tony knew that when the man elaborated, “Unless you have anyone else’s text tone as a lightsaber sound.”

A light flush coated Peter’s cheeks at that, and he looked away from Tony, which earned him another laugh from the billionaire. When he glanced back up at the man, worry was back on his face. His eyes were flickering across Peter’s body. His right arm was burnt pretty much to a crisp, charred and black. One of his eyes was slightly cloudy and definitely more slow than the other, as the burns had crept from Peter’s arm to his chest to one side of his face. The rest of the damage was invisible, but he couldn’t feel his legs.

“What…” Peter tried to get Tony’s attention again, but started coughing as his dry throat screamed for water. Well, it did get Tony’s attention. He looked alarmed, but after he saw Peter swallow repeatedly, he reached over for a plastic cup of water at Peter’s bedside and helped Peter take a few sips, smiling in a paternal way the whole time. Peter decided to try his question again.

“What’re you workin’ on?” He asked after a beat of silence, and Tony’s gentle smile (that Peter thought looked very fatherly compared to the Tony Stark he knew from five years prior) dropped off of his face, replaced by lips pursed in a line.

“Ah.. You know we weren’t sure if your arm would make it?” Tony paused, “Well– It’s not gonna make it.”

Peter’s world froze for a second, but that fact was hardly his biggest concern. He had kind of felt like that would happen. From the coherent moments he had, he hadn’t noticed any difference in his right arm’s state. And he’d assumed if it was fixable, his healing would have started to get to work by then. Tony noticed the slight sadness on his face, and hurried to continue talking.

“But I measured your arm and stuff while you were asleep, and you’re gonna have the coolest prosthetic, I promise. Even good old Manchurian Candidate will be jealous. Though, don’t think red stars are so in fashion anymore… Maybe we can make yours just red, hm? Bright, Iron Man red. By the way, how are your arms so skinny yet able to hold so much weight, it doesn’t make any sense according to physics…”

A soft, lopsided smile crept onto Peter’s face as he listened to Tony start to ramble. It was funny how quickly he could get off topic. There was probably only one sentence actually about the assumed prosthetic in the entirety of his word vomit, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to care. He trusted Tony. If anyone could make him a functioning, state of the art prosthetic, it was Tony Stark.

“Oh– Cho wants you to keep doing those exercises with your arm okay?” Tony cut off his own rambles to say. Peter sighed in response.

“But… ’s not worth it.” When Tony only gave him a confused look at his words, Peter spoke again. “It’s comin’ off. No point.”

He hated speaking so simply and shortly, because it always made him worry that he was coming across rude. However, there wasn’t any other way to talk without major discomfort in the muscles in his neck and chest. He hoped he didn’t offend anyone. Tony, at least, seemed to understand.

Tony’s expression changed at the words, and he got up to sit on Peter’s bed, one hand coming to rest on the kid’s knee.

“Kid… If you want a prosthetic that can be as functional as possible, you need to keep up the exercises. Your shoulder muscles. That’s all we’re trying to save. Okay? I know it hurts, and I know it feels pointless. I just want your arm to be as badass as it can be. We gotta make icicle jealous, remember?”

Peter let out another dramatic sigh, but hummed in agreement as well. Tony was right. It just sucked. Everything sucked.

After ten more minutes of Tony catching Peter up on what he’d missed while he slept (Bucky had decided to go on a cooking strike because “no one appreciated his food enough” which meant everyone suffered with Steve’s cooking, since no one else had time. Eventually Bucky got tired of the burnt food and started to cook again), Tony left to go and spend some time with Morgan. But not before pointing out the emergency call button, as he did every time he had to leave Peter in the room alone. This time, though, he also placed Peter’s neglected Starkphone in his good hand, reminding him of the messages from ‘Ed’.

“’s Ned.” Peter mumbled as he watched the door fall shut behind his mentor. Tony didn’t reply, but Peter didn’t think he’d spoken loud enough anyway.

He decided to pick up his phone, and his eyes widened when he saw the wall of notifications waiting for him. Ned had sent him 30 messages in the last hour. It made him panic initially, but then he saw that most of the messages included keyboard smashes in all-caps, and he relaxed.

_Ned: PETER HFJGDS I CANT BELEIVE IT_

_Ned: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE DO YOU THINK ILL MEET CAPTAIN AMERICA FINALLY_

The confusion flowing through Peter at just the most recent messages was overwhelming, but before he had a chance to scroll up to see what the fuck Ned was on about, another few messages popped up.

_Ned: PLEAAAASE BE AWAKE_

_Ned: COME ON I WANNA TELL YOU ABOUT THE FIELD TRIP_

_Ned: FLASH IS GONNA LOSE HIS MIND IF HE SEES YOU THERE_

Peter started to connect the dots. Field trip… Flash losing it… There was a trip to Stark Industries. Fuck.

_Peter: hey ned_

_Ned: OMG YOURE AWAKE_

_Ned: I MISS YOU_

_Ned: ARE YOU BETTER NOW?_

Ned hadn’t seen Peter yet. He didn’t really know the extent of the damage done. Peter wanted to keep it that way initially, but after the news about his arm… It was probably not realistic anymore.

_Peter: i’m okay_

_Peter: theres a field trip?_

_Ned: YEAH MAN_

_Ned: it’s to SI!!_

_Peter: fuck_

_Ned: you don’t want it to happen? :( i miss u_

_Peter: that’s not it_

_Peter: just worried_

_Ned: ? about what_

Peter sighed. He knew Ned wouldn’t understand unless he was more honest. So he supposed he should be honest.

_Peter: i didn’t tell u how bad i am rn did i_

_Ned: not rly_

_Ned: no detail_

_Ned: why how bad is it_

_Ned: are u gonna die???_

_Peter: no ned i’m okay_

_Peter: i did almost die though_

That may have been an understatement. May said his heart had stopped a few times that first night, when everything was uncertain and unstable.

_Peter: the snap is not supposed to be done no one is supposed to wield that much power_

_Peter: so yeah_

_Peter: i’m uhhh really injured_

_Peter: that’s why i’ve been so bad at texting i’ve been asleep a lot_

_Ned: omg :( peter why didnt u just tell me!!_

_Ned: i feel bad for bothering u so often hh_

_Peter: no no!! i love reading your messages when i’m awake_

_Peter: makes me feel a bit better :)_

_Ned: you gonna recover okay?_

_Peter: mostly_

_Ned: MOSTLY?_

_Peter: my arm is like.. too damaged to save_

_Peter: but i’m not healthy enough to go through surgery rn so_

_Ned: PETER :(_

_Ned: okay so i probably won’t see you on the field trip?_

_Peter: definitely not_

_Peter: sorry man_

_Peter: barely out of bed, and if i am it’s just for a snack or something_

_Peter: i don’t want school seeing me like that anyway_

_Ned: can i come visit you after the trip?_

_Peter: when even is it?_

_Ned: uhhhh this friday_

_Peter: WHAT_

_Ned: ahaha yeah it’s very short notice_

_Ned: i think they want us to like have good memories or somethin lmao_

_Ned: detract from the trauma of dying/undying with ~distractions~_

_Ned: it eez what it eez_

_Peter: well_

_Peter: i’ll probably be asleep for it then anyway_

_Peter: you can come visit me tho_

_Peter: i’ll make mr stark wake me up if i’m asleep :)_

_Ned: wow u almost die to save the universe and u STILL call him mr stark?_

_Ned: if i was that close to THE iron man i would call him tony all the time_

_Ned: would be such an honour_

_Peter: youre weird ned_

_Ned: hey!_

_Ned: thats your best friend youre talking to >:(_

_Peter: yeah my weird ass best friend_

_Ned: im gonna take that as a compliment_

_Ned: normal is boring_

_Peter: good thing we’re both super weird then lol_

They texted for a while longer, Ned updating him on ‘the Flash situation’ which had developed into something complicated. Flash seemed to have a slight change of heart after coming back from the snap. He’d stopped saying mean things about Peter (especially when he realised Peter was not coming back to school for an indefinite amount of time despite everything) at first, but since the field trip had been announced he was back to his old ways somewhat. The comments were better (no more Penis Parker), but he was still determined to get to the bottom of the Parker Intern Problem.

It was weird to think about how everyone else was back to their normal lives by then, while Peter was barely coherent half the time. He wondered what it was like at Midtown, whether people were struggling with another period of change, whether clubs were still going on. He wondered how New York was doing without him still. He wondered if he’d ever be well enough to go back to his duties around the city, and whether he’d ever be able to rejoin high school fully. It would probably be so strange if he ever could. He’d be even more of an outsider, he wouldn’t be able to do things he used to. It worried him privately. But he tried not to think about it as he continued to catch up with Ned.

Eventually Peter grew tired. Typing messages became harder and his hand grew shakier with every minute, and he knew it was probably time to put the phone down and watch TV or something. He didn’t want to go back to sleep so soon after waking, but a deep set exhaustion was still flowing through him despite all the time he spent asleep, and it was hard to resist. He texted Ned a goodbye, turned on the TV on the wall, and started to watch Coco.

He didn’t get very far into it though.

* * *

When Peter next woke up, it was different. It wasn’t a nightmare or loud sound that jolted him out of his rest and disoriented him. He simply drifted from a blank state of unconsciousness to the land of the living.

For once, his body had time to catch up with his mind, and he didn’t experience a sensation of being trapped in his own mind like he had almost every other time he’d woken up after the snap. It was comforting, and comfortable to feel so normal for just a minute. His eyes stayed closed, and if he ignored the dull pain throbbing through his body, he could pretend he was in his and May’s apartment, and he was about to get up and ready for school.

As he got closer to being in a fully awake state, he noticed that his bed was– moving? Not as in he was being moved somewhere, but his mattress was being jostled around slightly, and as his hearing came back to him, he heard hushed voices.

“Morgan H Stark, stop. Pete needs to sleep– do not give me that look young lady.”

Mr Stark… and Morgan.

Even though Peter had had extremely limited time to interact with Morgan, he absolutely adored her. In the three times she’d been in his room while he was awake, she’d referred to him as her big brother at least twenty times (which Mr Stark always got slightly sheepish at, as if Peter would be upset that she considered him part of her family), and had treated him like she’d known him forever. She was also the only one to treat him normally, never letting the fact that he was heavily injured and bed-bound stop her from harassing him in a way only younger siblings could do. Sometimes the normalcy she helped him experience was at his own expense, as the five year old wasn’t the best at keeping in mind that she had to be gentle with him.

After a few seconds of Mr Stark continuing to attempt (and fail) to get Morgan to stop whatever she was doing on his bed, Peter decided to give himself away, knowing his private daydream where he could pretend he was normal was too far away at that point. Slowly, he let his eyes open, and he was met with the same white ceiling as usual, starting off blurred and slowly coming into focus. He managed to get his eyes cooperating with his brain quicker than the last time he was awake, and he dragged his eyes down to focus on the source of his mattress-jostling just as Morgan giggled.

She was perched in between his legs, bouncing on the mattress with a carelessness that only five year olds truly possessed. Peter could see where Mr Starks stressed tone came from, as one wrong move could send pain jolting through him, but he also couldn’t find it in him to care with how happy and carefree she looked. What was a little more temporary pain when his whole existence was accompanied by medication-dulled pain anyway?

She gasped when she saw Peter’s eyes were open.

“Petey!” Her voice came out in a high pitched squeal, and Peter winced slightly at the volume.

“Sorry, underoos. Little miss has trouble doing as I say…”

Peter could only find it in him to hum at Mr Stark’s words, his own mouth feeling dry and unprepared for more. He glanced at his mentor, unconsciously licking his dry lips, and Mr Stark hurried to get him some water, as he did most times he was there when Peter woke up. Mr Stark seemed to be getting fluent in Peter’s non-verbal cues, as he was somehow always there when Peter woke up. Peter wondered how much work he’d slacked off on because of him.

After a few sips from a plastic cup he held shakily, Peter offered Morgan a lopsided smile. In response, Morgan attempted to flop on top of him, but Mr Stark grabbed her at the last second. Peter’s body ached with phantom pains of what would’ve happened had she succeeded. Childhood naivety was scary sometimes.

“Daddy…” She whined, “I wanna cuddle Petey!”

Peter let out a soft laugh, and considered how he was feeling for a moment. He was feeling… Not great, but okay. Better than usual. He wasn’t in unbearable pain, his limbs didn’t feel like they were about to fall off if he moved them too much, his mouth wasn’t as cotton-filled as usual. It felt like it was going to be a good day. Possibly one he could be mostly awake for…

He made a decision after a moment, spurred on by Morgan’s persistent pout that she aimed at her father.

“Wha’ time’s it?” He asked. He was proud of how clearly he managed to get the words out.

“Almost midday.” Mr Stark replied easily.

“Then… how ‘bout we…” He paused both for a breath and to keep Morgan in suspense, “have a lunch date?”

Morgan squealed again and clapped excitedly from her place in Mr Stark’s lap.

“Lunch date! Yes yes yes! Daddy! Lunch date with Petey!”

Mr Stark looked unsure, though. He didn’t respond to Morgan with anything but a gentle hush, and let his concentrated gaze fall on Peter. He seemed to study him, searching for a reason to keep him in bed.

“You sure, kid?”

“‘m sure.” He said simply, holding eye contact with his mentor for extra convincing. Mr Stark could be so overly worried sometimes, so he tried to look as not-in-pain as possible. He supposed the worry was warranted when he was so injured, though.

Mr Stark couldn’t seem to find a reason to keep him bed-bound, so he ended up sighing and nodding.

“I’ll be right back with your Hot Wheels.” And with that he got up, Morgan in his arms, and left Peter alone in the room.

It gave him time to think about what he wanted to do on his lunch date with the father-daughter duo. He rarely felt well enough/looked convincingly well enough/was awake enough to leave his room, so he felt like he had to spend the time wisely. He felt hungry, so he would for sure be eating actual food for lunch (which he normally didn’t, as he was hooked up to IVs and unconscious more than half the time). That meant he had to get some good food, something worth eating. Maybe he could convince Mr Stark to wheel him down to that one staff cafeteria with the pizza place he used to love. If it was still there…

At that thought, Mr Stark came back into the room, wheeling a very giggly Morgan along in an oddly modern-styled wheelchair that had a pole coming up on one side that IV bags could be hung from. Dr Cho strolled in behind the pair, and pointedly ignored them both in favour of Peter.

“You know the drill, Parker. I just gotta switch over the bags and you’re good to go.” She said, and immediately started unhooking bags as Morgan jumped out of the wheelchair to watch in fascination.

“Right, kid, let’s get you in your chariot then.”

The journey from horizontal in bed to vertical in wheelchair was not a fun one, and was also something Peter didn’t have much control over, which was embarrassing. He got manhandled into the chair through the joint effort of Mr Stark and Dr Cho, and then Mr Stark had to (humiliatingly) strap him into the wheelchair as he wasn’t the best at supporting his upper body weight yet. Peter knew he had no control over it, but it was still embarrassing no matter how many times he was told it was okay and that no one was judging him.

In a few short minutes, all the IV bags were hanging from the wheelchair’s IV pole, Peter was strapped in and ready to go, and Dr Cho had helped situate his injured arm in a sling so it wouldn’t hang or swing uncomfortably.

As soon as the doctor left the room, Peter snuck Morgan onto his lap and insisted to Mr Stark that it didn’t hurt to have her there. Even if it did cause some slight (extra) discomfort, he wanted to be close to the adorable little girl that he was already starting to associate as his sister.

“Right. Lunch.” Mr Stark deadpanned as he wheeled Peter and Morgan toward the elevator. Peter’s room was in the living quarters for the Avengers, but on one of the lower floors. They had put in a room meant for long-term hospital-style living in case of injury, so it was perfect for his state.

"Common room?" Mr Stark checked, but Peter didn't want to go there. He shook his head, and Mr Stark stopped pushing the wheelchair along and moved to stand in front of it, waiting for Peter to explain.

“Y’know that… pizza place…” Peter trailed off, and looked up at Mr Stark with puppy eyes for a few seconds. He immediately was met with a frown on his mentor’s face as he most likely thought back to five years prior. A look of realisation struck his face, but not one of sorrow, so Peter assumed the vendor was still there.

“Is that a good idea..?”

Peter only hummed in confusion. He hadn’t really thought anything through, he just wanted pizza, but it was clear Mr Stark had.

His mentor crouched in front of Peter (and Morgan) to be at their level. Whatever he was about to say was probably important.

“Buddy, the whole world knows that Spider-Man did the snap, and that he’s heavily injured. If I wheel you down to a cafeteria full of visitors and employees…” He paused, sighed, and then, “they could connect the dots.”

Peter definitely hadn’t considered that.

But as he thought more about it, he decided that he didn’t care too much. People would either possibly connect the dots then, in a controlled environment, or they would when he was well enough to return to his normal life. There would be no explaining away his missing arm or the scars that would form on his face, and damage to one eye.

“’s fine.” He deadpanned, and Mr Stark’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Kid…” He started, but Peter shook his head ever so slightly. He wouldn’t be able to get all the words out he needed to explain why, he just needed his mentor to trust him.

“’s fine.” He tried again, trying to make it less slurred and more sure-sounding.

“Okay.” Mr Stark sighed, but didn’t move for a moment, as if going over a plan or strategy in his head, “Okay.”

And with that, Mr Stark rose to his full height again, and pushed his kids into the private elevator that was open and waiting for them.

“Lower cafeteria please, FRI.” Mr Stark requested, and the elevator started moving almost immediately.

“ _Got it, boss._ ”

Morgan started to fidget on Peter’s lap, trying to turn around to look at all the IV lines connected to Peter.

“Does it hurt, Petey?” She asked out of nowhere, finger reaching out as if to touch the point where the cannula went into his arm. Peter subtly moved his good arm away from her touch, and shook his head.

“Nope.” He smiled at the little girl, and she huffed at his answer. It would hurt if she touched it, though. At her age, she loved to ask ‘why’ about everything, wanting explanations even of things that wouldn’t normally need one (Mr Stark told him that a few weeks ago she had spent twenty minutes questioning Pepper on why she was using the sink to wash their dishes and not the dishwasher).

After a moment, she shuffled off of his lap and started running in circles around the elevator as it slowly moved down, giggling and entertaining herself in a way that Peter would never be able to do.

“I’m gonna get Pepper to write up an NDA,” Tony announced suddenly, “I don’t want you exposing yourself unnecessarily. Not like this, anyway. If we have to do it, we can have a press conference, but I don’t want people finding out and spreading rumours or your name from us going to get lunch in my own building.”

Mr Stark glanced at Peter after his explanation, as if waiting for his objection, but Peter actually thought it was a good idea. After a moment, Mr Stark nodded and repeated his plans to FRIDAY, asking that she get Pepper to write them up and send the file to Happy immediately so he could get it if he needed it.

Just as FRIDAY finished telling Mr Stark that ‘ _Mrs Boss is leaving a meeting to get it done_ ’, the elevator doors opened, and suddenly everything was quite loud, especially in comparison to the usual quiet of Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart rate quickened as he looked out at the full cafeteria. In all his time of being awake, there hadn’t been more than five people around him at any one time, so seeing a room of this scale at least 3/4 full of people was overwhelming to say the least. Mr Stark squeezed his shoulder, and then started pushing the wheelchair through the room, toward the other side of the room, where the food vendors were located. Morgan skipped along beside them, looking carefree and unaware of any eyes on them.

And there were plenty of eyes on them.

After all, it wasn’t often Tony Fucking Stark comes down to the low-level cafeteria, let alone in casual clothes, _let alone_ with his daughter, **_let alone_** with some random wheelchair-bound teenager. Peter kept his head down, pointedly not looking up at anyone as he was pushed through. He probably should have, though. Maybe then he would’ve had a chance to see a certain group of familiar faces sat at one of the tables specifically for tour groups.

As Mr Stark pushed him past the end of the line for the pizza vendor (Tony Stark can, of course, skip lines at his own tower), he heard a few gasps. He didn’t look up, though, as he’d heard enough of them in the last minute that he assumed it was just more gasps at the fact that Tony Stark was there.

“Peter!”

Peter froze up a bit. Ned..? He looked up from his lap to see Ned standing with a slightly concerned looking MJ in the pizza place’s line.

What day was it? Shit. He hadn’t asked Mr Stark. It was definitely Friday, though. Why else would they be here?

“Peter.” Ned said again, and Peter realised Mr Stark had stopped pushing him along at the sight of Ned. His mentor had seemed to realise they were in a predicament, as (after a glance to the table across the room full of kids in familiar blue sweatshirts) he was quietly asking FRIDAY (via his phone) to get Happy and a pile of NDAs down to them ASAP.

Ned’s face was crumpled at the sight of his best friend, and Peter winced at the sight of tears in his eyes. Sure, Ned cried often, but Peter didn’t really know how to react now that the tears were… Warranted. Especially when he couldn’t move to comfort his best friend.

“How do you know Petey?” Morgan suddenly butted in, stepping in front of the wheelchair to scowl up at Ned with her arms crossed over her chest. She seemed to be trying to be intimidating, but she only succeeded in looking absolutely adorable.

Ned looked away from analysing Peter’s injuries to meet Morgan’s eyes, and he didn’t even bother trying to suppress the smile that came to his face. (Morgan looked a bit offended at that, until Ned spoke.)

“I’m his best friend. You must be Morgan?” He said, and Morgan gasped.

“You know my name!” She seemed excited about the fact. Peter didn’t think she’d grasped the fact that she was a famous person’s daughter yet, not realising that it meant many knew her name even though they didn’t know her face.

“I sure do. Can I get to Peter now? I haven’t been able to see him yet and I’ve missed him a lot.” Ned said next, and Morgan’s scowl was back in place until she was moved out of the way when Mr Stark gently pulled at her shoulder.

“Maguna and I will go get the pizzas. The usual, kid?” Mr Stark said, and Peter nodded, silently wondering how Mr Stark remembered his order (ham and pineapple) after five years, “I’ll get yours too so you guys can catch up. Ted? Michelle?”

Ned only gaped at Mr Stark for a second, prompting MJ to sigh in exasperation.

“We were gonna share a plain cheese one.” She said, and Mr Stark just nodded. He looked at Peter for another second, and then hesitantly left. Mr Stark hadn’t been away from him much at all from what he knew. He was probably feeling some separation anxiety. As was Peter, but seeing his friends made it a quiet thought in the back of his mind.

As soon as Mr Stark walked away, a lot of the eyes around the cafeteria left the trio in favour of following Mr Stark, and Ned’s face crumpled again.

“You look like shit, Parker.” MJ deadpanned, but Peter could see the tears shimmering in her eyes too.

“‘ll be okay.” He got out, but his voice sounded a bit more slurred than earlier from the stress of the last few minutes, and it made their eyes widen a fraction. He cleared his throat, “Can’t… get rid ‘a me th’t easy.”

MJ smiled a bit at that, and Ned let some tears fall with a violent sniff.

“I wanna hug you, man, but I don’t know if I should.” He admitted, and Peter nodded.

“‘m a bit break’ble. Prob’ly shouldn’t.” He admitted, and both of his friends managed a laugh.

“I was so worried about you.” MJ said, the way she delivered it sounding like an accusation. Peter didn’t mind though; he knew that was how she showed she cared. Ned only nodded in agreement and reached up to wipe at his eyes.

“Why are you even down here? Thought I’d be able to see you later and… and cry without worrying about all the Stark Industries employees seeing me! What if they remember me when I finally get an internship here? That would be so embarrassing.” Ned rambled slightly, wiping again at his eyes as some more tears fell.

Peter stayed silent, glancing away for a second. How did he admit that he’d forgotten about the trip entirely and didn’t even know what day it was until he got down here…

“Y’know ‘m sleepin’ a lot?” Ned nodded, and MJ hummed as if she knew so as well, “‘ve been sleepin’ since we last texted.”

Ned gasped.

“Are you becoming more like a spider? You know some spiders hibernate right? Are you hibernating?!”

Peter chuckled at that. There was his Ned.

“Nah. Just heav’ly injured.” He joked. MJ snorted, but Ned scowled as if the joke out of Peter’s pain personally offended him.

“Hey, what’d I say about the injury jokes?” Mr Stark was suddenly back in his line of sight, carrying three pizzas in one arm, and gripping Morgan’s small hand in the other. Peter didn’t answer, but Morgan had no trouble speaking up.

“That you have a heart condition! And they’re not good for it!” She recited, and then frowned at Peter, “Petey, don’t make daddy’s heart go weird.”

There was silence for a second as Ned’s eyes flickered from Mr Stark to Peter over and over again (Peter wondered what it would take for his best friend to get over the hero worship of Mr Stark. Then again, it had taken him quite a while.) while MJ looked with a very soft face (that was very un-MJ of her) at Morgan, before Mr Stark spoke.

“Right, Pete. Game plan. Two options. One: We go back upstairs and eat the pizzas there. No shame in that,” He paused, and Peter gestured for him to go on, “Two: we go sit with your friends and, presumably, your whole class.”

Peter thought about it. Part of him wanted to retreat back upstairs. It would be scary to be looked at by his peers in the pitying way he knew he’d get looked at. And then the disbelief that was sure to come, and the questions… The other part of him really missed his friends, and normalcy. He even missed Flash’s petty insults, as odd as it sounded.

Ned seemed to notice his inner conflict, and spoke up weakly.

“It’s, uh, just the decathlon team. Something about morale? I think a few of the other New York teams are getting a tour too…”

Mr Stark nodded, and kept looking at Peter, waiting on his decision. He was planning on announcing his identity before he returned to Midtown, so what was the harm in telling people close to him beforehand? There was a possibility they wouldn’t connect the dots, but he kind of wanted them to. He felt oddly ready for them all to know.

“W’nna see the…” He took a breath, “look on Flash’s face.”

Mr Stark frowned at that (Peter never told him about the bully), Ned smiled widely, and MJ just snorted.

“So option two?” Morgan asked, looking impatient all of a sudden and a minute away from stomping her foot, “I wanna eat now, daddy. Can we go?”

They spoke for a moment about what was going to happen, and ended up deciding that MJ and Ned would go back to their table before Peter came over, just to explain the situation vaguely (Peter was injured, he was there, Tony Stark was looking after him, he wanted to see them). It would take some pressure and anxiety away from Peter once he did go over.

“Bye Bye!” Morgan called after his friends as they walked away with their pizza box. She got over her sudden irritability fast, as Mr Stark had snuck her a single slice of pizza while she waited for them to finish talking. An eating kid was a happy kid.

“You sure about this, underoos?” Mr Stark prodded again as he adjusted the IV bags attached to Peter’s wheelchair. Privately, Peter had noticed that Mr Stark fidgeting was a sign of the man’s own nerves, so he knew he was being asked the question again more for Mr Stark’s benefit than his own.

“‘m sure.” He promised, but rolled his eyes when Mr Stark still narrowed his eyes at him for another few seconds.

“Okay, let’s get this Hot Wheels over there.” His mentor sighed. He put the pizza boxes on Peter’s lap, and they started the walk over to the table.

Peter swallowed nervously as they got close enough that he could see them all from his position in the chair. They were distracted, MJ and Ned talking to Mr Harrington and the group as Flash frowned at whatever he was hearing (Peter thought he heard the words ‘no way’ from him, but couldn’t be sure over the amount of noise in the hall). It was weird to see them all again, especially outside of school. Especially at the place that he was calling a temporary home.

As Mr Stark got pretty close to the table, Mr Harrington glanced over at them, did a double take, and paled at the sight of his student so injured. This cued everyone else to look over, and Peter felt his ears turn red at the feeling of them all analysing them. Mr Stark didn’t seem to care, and simply rolled Peter over and parked the wheelchair in between Ned and MJ’s seats, where a space had been made for him.

The table was silent, everyone going between staring at Peter and looking at Mr Stark (who had separated himself from the table with Morgan, lifting her into his arms to keep her distracted from Peter’s catch up session with his team). While they were reeling with the new information, MJ picked up the pizza boxes from Peter’s lap and opened Peter’s for him. Peter’s ears darkened further when he noticed the pizza had been cut in a way that would be way easier for him to pick up and eat.

He took a deep breath, and offered his lopsided smile at the people at the table. Flash (surprisingly) seemed to recover from the shock first.

“What the fuck, Parker?” He breathed out, and that triggered everyone else’s exclamations of similar sentiments. Half were about how he was so close with Tony Stark, and the other half were about the state he was in.

“Guys, please calm down.” Mr Harrington chastised after a moment, and the table quietened as Peter tried to think over all the questions.

“So… Guess y’all b’lieve my internsh’p now?” He joked. Everyone winced at how damaged his voice sounded, which made him frown as well. He hadn’t really felt self-conscious of it until today, where almost everyone who hadn’t seen him for a while had reacted to it. Was it that bad? At least he could still talk.

“What happened, Peter?” Betty asked, reaching a hand across the table. His hand wasn’t even on the table yet, but she seemed to just need to reach out to him. For a moment he wondered if this was her trying to interview him, but a look to her face showed nothing but sincerity and worry.

“Uhh..” Peter stuttered. If he could, he would’ve looked behind him at Mr Stark for guidance.

“Before Peter tells you anything, I want you to know that you will have to sign some NDAs before you leave the building. What he chooses to share is highly sensitive information and is not to be shared with anyone outside of this table, okay?” Mr Stark butted in, in full press mode as he stared down everyone at the table. Everyone murmured their agreements, and Mr Stark nodded, satisfied.

“Um..” Peter thought about how he was going to say this with his limited speech ability, and decided to just whip out the big guns straight away, “‘m Spid’r-Man.”

There were a few beats of silence, and the table was back to chaos. Flash looked seconds away from passing out, Mr Harrington was pale as a sheet, and everyone else just wanted answers.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Abe asked quietly, once everyone seemed to have calmed down a bit once more.

“Ev’ntually. Gotta get…” He swallowed, “m’arm off.” He gestured weakly at the arm in the sling.

“Whoa. Is that the arm you used to…” Cindy started, but stopped herself when Peter paled a bit. He nodded anyway, at her unfinished question.

“‘ll be okay, though.” He promised.

“And I’ll finally fulfil my destiny as your sidekick.” Ned declared suddenly, mouth half full of pizza. Peter smiled weakly at that. He really didn’t know when he’d be able to go back to Spider-Man. He had a long way to go until he recovered enough.

He reached down and picked up a piece of his own pizza with his shaky hand. This was weird. Everyone was silent and watching him, and he kind of hated it.

“Guys, c’mon. Staring’s weird. You gonna eat your food or not?” MJ chimed in helpfully, and Peter smiled around the pizza he was chewing.

“Yeah, this food is, like, the high quality shit.” Ned mumbled.

“Then why did you losers get pizza of all things?” Flash seemed to have come back to himself.

“Flash, you literally got McDonalds.”

“I didn’t even know there was a McDonalds here.” Abe huffed.

From there, conversation flowed easily, with minimal participation from Peter. In the midst of it, Mr Stark came over with NDAs, and took his and Morgan’s pizza box from the middle of the table so they could go eat too. He told Peter he’d be a few tables away, and with a squeeze of his shoulder, left him with his friends.

It was almost weird to feel like this was normal. Everyone had gotten over the arm so quickly, stashed away the information about Spider-Man to scream about on their group chat later, and signed the NDAs without a fuss. It was odd, but reassuring. Peter wondered if it had something to do with Ned and MJ’s talk with the table before he’d come over. They weren’t treating him too differently, only accommodating his new needs. Maybe going back to normal wouldn’t be so hard. He just needed to find out what normal would mean for him from that point on.

He was so glad he had his friends and family to help him find it.


End file.
